Blogging From A to Z is a blog challenge where participants post a new item every day (except Sundays), where every item relates to the appropriate letter of the alphabet. You can find out more over at http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com
Story: The Rose Queen
Word Count: 439
This was rapidly becoming his favourite place in the whole universe—not that he’d ever tell Fayth, because no way in hell was he going to put up with his insufferable amusement and reminder that RQ didn’t exactly have a vast experience of the world outside space stations and shuttle pods.
Even if the space between his arm and his body was warm and comfortable... RQ smiled to himself and nestled more closely against Fayth’s chest. When silent, simply being beside Fayth could make a moment intimate.
“I thought you’d be asleep by now.”
RQ squinted blearily up at the stubbled, smiling face above him, framed by a mass of tangled shoulder-length brown hair, and tried to scowl. “If I had been, you’d have woken me up.”
“Fair enough.” Fingers began a rhythmic stroking along the curve of his waist and he barely kept his involuntary purr in his throat. It wasn’t even that the touch was sexual; if anything, it was only a simple expression of contact that did more to make him melt against the other man than any amount of words could.
“That helps,” he admitted grudgingly, allowing his hand to splay over Fayth’s bare chest, still glossy with sweat in the low light of the cabin. Maybe later the smell of their efforts would turn stale and cloying in his throat. For now he wanted to savour the closeness as his eyes slowly drifted shut.
When lips pressed briefly to the top of his head, they snapped open again. Fayth’s chuckle rumbled through his arm and up to his chest, warm and confusing. “You know, RQ, you’re cute when you don’t have a death wish.” He craned his neck to peck another kiss to RQ’s forehead.
He sighed, squirming slightly until he was perfectly aligned to Fayth’s body. The perfect position to fall asleep in, and he could already feel it tugging at him with every rise and fall of Fayth’s chest. One half of that conversation could be left until tomorrow, but the other...
“Iska,” he mumbled against Fayth’s damp skin. “My name’s Iskariya. Iska.”
With his eyes closed he couldn’t see Fayth’s smile, but practice meant he could imagine it perfectly. “Really?” A warm hand pressed over his, fingers gently squeezing. “I’m pleased to meet you, Iska.”
It was only a small thing, one tiny little weight in the load across his shoulders, and without it Iska suddenly found he felt a lot lighter.